


The Question

by SunlightInTheRain



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Human, And one dad joke, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Emotionally Repressed, Gen, Guilt, Sad Ending, There's like /one/ gay joke, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 04:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16885440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunlightInTheRain/pseuds/SunlightInTheRain
Summary: Patton is an assassin who has gotten the biggest gig in his life. However, he realizes quickly that he has his work cut out for him. Fortunately, he has one thing to look forward to.





	The Question

**Author's Note:**

> Hey this is gonna be one of my first fics on here! Constructive criticism (or keyboard smashes-) are welcome and please heed the tags!

Patton walked up to a mansion, all white with windows seemingly on every side. Red, orange, and white bunches of flowers he didn’t recognize were growing against the sides of the house. The fence was made of pillars of white brick with black metal fencing in between except for the large gate, big enough to allow two cars side-by-side to pass through.  
  
Walking up to the gate, Patton saw a metal plate fixated on a close by pillar with a speaker, a small microphone, and a button. Pressing the button, he spoke.  
  
“Hello, is this the Prince residence?”  
  
“Who is this?” A voice crackled from the speaker. Male, Patton guessed.  
  
“I'm Patton, I'm requested for special services?”  
  
“You're what I ordered?” Said the voice, confusion evident in his voice.  
  
Patton furrowed his brows before glancing up, noticing a small camera a foot above him.  
  
“Did you expect me in a suit? I thought this was casual Friday.” Patton quipped, giving a small smile to the camera.  
  
“I hope you're more serious inside.” Said the voice before the gate slowly swung open, allowing Patton to stroll in. It took him a minute before reaching the door due to how long the driveway was. By the time he reached the doorway, a man was there already waiting.  
  
The stranger’s hair was what Patton called 'professionally messy' and he was wearing a white suit with a red tie. His light brown eyes studied him for a moment.  
  
“I will admit, you were not what I expected.” He said, gesturing Patton to follow him inside.  
  
“What? That I look innocent?” Patton said, gesturing to his flannel and jeans. “That’s kind of the point.” He smiled before glancing around the large entrance room, closing the door behind him. To the left led to an expensive kitchen while to the right led to a luxurious living room, the TV mindlessly droning from in it. In front of him was a large stairwell that led to the second floor with an indoor balcony.  
  
In short, Patton was in awe. “Wow, this is fancy. I can see how you offered a hefty price.”  
  
“That’s part of the reason.” The man said, his face unreadable to Patton. “Won’t you come sit in the dining room?”  
  
Patton nodded. “What’s your name? I was only given your last name.” He said, following the man through the kitchen that led farther back into the dining room where there was a large, shiny dark oak table with matching chairs that almost looked like small thrones.  
  
“Roman.” He said simply, sitting at the head of the table. Patton sat by him, folding his hands under the table. No matter how many times Patton did this, he could never free himself from his nerves. The jittery feeling in his heart made him uneasy but he kept a calm, light-hearted demeanor.  
  
“So, who’s your target?”  
  
“That’s part of why I paid so much.” Roman laminated as he interlaced his fingers under his chin, resting his elbows on the table. “I don’t know his name.”  
  
“Then why do you want to… eliminate him?” Patton hesitated.  
  
“Do you know my father?”  
  
“I’m guessing William Prince? The man who made a fortune off investing in stock and then went on to produce a successful movie titles and a semi-successful musical?”  
  
Roman stared at him, his eyes wide.  
  
“We have had a few requests for him. No one was able to pay high enough, not like we wanted to anyways.”  
  
“Well somebody did.” He said, his eyes darkening despite the light coming in rays through the window.  
  
Patton shuttered. He remembered the apparent suicide that Mr. Prince committed on the news around a month ago. He even left a note behind claiming that he had robbed many people their futures and the guilt was too much. The fine details of the note weren’t revealed to the public by Roman’s request. “I didn’t know that my boss allowed it.”  
  
“Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, that is irrelevant. I want you to kill his assassin.”  
  
“I’m not so sure I can do that. If he works for my boss, I can’t.”  
  
“That’s why I offered so much. I inherited my father’s money. I’ll pay whatever it takes to have his assassin killed.”  
  
Patton paused for a moment. “Well… if it’s a high price, I don’t think my boss would care much.”  
  
“And how much would that be?” Roman asked, quirking a brow as he leaned imperceptibly closer to Patton.  
  
“Guessing from how good he was to forge a convincing note and faking suicide, which is highly uncommon. It’s in the hundred-thousands.” Patton said matter-of-factly.  
“I can do that.”  
  
Patton folded his arms over the table. “So how do you know your father was assassinated?”  
  
“I saw him.” Roman stared, his eyes closing as though he was reliving the night. “I came home early from work and I heard a gunshot in my father’s room. I ran as quietly as I could in case it was a robbery. I managed to see the assassin climb out his window. It was only a glimpse, but I can remember him so clearly because right after I saw my father the floor…” He trailed off, his brows furrowed in what looked like pain. Patton wanted to console the other male, but only straightened his back. He _had_ to keep a suitable appearance.  
  
Roman coughed, his voice rough. “I don’t care how you do it. Slowly, accident, or obvious, I want him _dead._ ”  
  
Patton nodded. “Can you give me a description?”  
  
“He um… he had dark brown hair all slicked back, black glasses, and maybe blue eyes?” He said, gesturing to nothing as he grasped for the right words.  
  
“Right, well,” Patton stood up, pushing away the stirring feeling in his stomach. Roman stood up shortly after. “Someone will gather pictures of people similar to what you described, and you can see if they match, deal?”  
“That sounds good, thank you.” Roman said shaking Patton’s hand. Patton flashed a quick smile before bidding goodbye.  
Leaving the property, Patton knew this case is going to be… interesting.  
  
…  
  
“There are a surprising amount of people matching Roman’s description.” Said an associate, Virgil, walking up to the bench Patton was sitting at. He was usually a sort of secretary to the company, other times he was an errand boy. “Then again, we considered all eye colors since he wasn’t sure.”  
  
They had met up to trade information before, and Patton had quickly become attached to him. Virgil was fairly young, barely nineteen, and worked this place purely for the money to support him and his family. Although Virgil took his job seriously, he didn’t mind chatting with Patton under the guise of 'blending in the crowd'.  
  
Currently, they were in the middle of the park, Virgil came and sat next to Patton. They acted casual, anyone would give them only a glance before walking past.  
  
“Did he identify him?” Patton asked, turning to face Virgil.  
  
“It was a pain in the ass, more so then usual, but yeah.” Virgil said, pulling out a file from within his hoodie jacket.  
  
“How come?”  
  
“Well this guy left town after Mr. Prince was killed and we had to get files from nearby towns. Y’know, like a smart person would.” Virgil handed the file to Patton before shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets.  
  
Opening the file, Patton was greeted with a photo of a man with slicked back hair and a firm posture. Behind the frame of his glasses were dark blue eyes that seem to pierce through the photo.  
  
His name was Logan Berry, twenty-seven, no siblings, an orphan who never got adopted. No known ties to anybody. Perfect background for an assassin.  
  
“Didn’t knew he was your type. You done gawking?” Virgil said, a small smile. Bantering must be the highlight of his day, Patton thought.  
  
He indulges him. “Yeah yeah, like you know my orientation.”  
  
“Hey no judgment here.” Virgil said holding up his hands in surrender.  
  
Patton only laughed, closing the folder. “So where was he last seen?”  
  
“He was seen walking to work at a gas station in the next town over.” Virgil said. A brief pause passed between the two of them. Virgil seemed to be holding words in his throat, unable to force them out.  
  
“Virgil?” Patton asked, placing his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Is there something else?”  
  
“Patton this guy is supposed to be really good at his job.” Virgil started. Patton could feel how tense he was under his hand. “I mean… he’s not gonna go down without a fight, y’know?”  
  
“Are you implying that… I’m going to try asking him?” Patton said, referring to a specific question he would always ask.  
It was simple. 'Do you deserve to die?' five words, six syllables, seventeen letters. Such a simple, yet intriguing question that Patton created. It was his second victim that he asked. He tried to stealthily kill her but failed. But he was able to pin her at gun point when the question came to him.  
  
All his victims answered no, but it was their reasoning as to why they deserved life that intrigued Patton. That made Patton keep asking. Yes, it meant a little more risk and revealing himself to his victims, but it was the _only_ thing Patton ever looked forward to when carrying out the assassination.  
  
Only Virgil knew about his question. It was prodded out of him and since then, he always shared his victim’s answers when Virgil asked.  
  
Virgil crossed his arms, his shoulders seeming to fold inwards. “I mean, you always ask it.”  
  
“Yeah, when I think it’s worth the risk. Do you think I’m that naïve?”  
  
“Of course not! I’m just saying… this guy seems like trouble. Are you even able to take him on?”  
  
“I’m going to take him out, swiftly and quietly.” Patton said, his stare turning stern and his voice firm. “There will be no fanfare.” He paused, gauging Virgil’s reaction. The other’s deep green eyes shined with emotion as he stared at Patton, his body leaning forward as though he wanted to embrace him. It all suddenly clicked together.  
  
“Virgil… are you afraid he’s going to…?” _kill me?_  
  
“Aren’t you?”  
  
Patton paused. He didn’t really consider the idea of dying at the hands of his target. Then again, he never had to kill another assassin before.  
  
Patton took in a deep breath. “Virge, listen. I promise everything is going to be fine.” He broke into a smile. “In fact, I’m so confident, I’ll share some of the money when all is said and done.” His smile only grew wider when Virgil stared at him as though he grew two heads.  
  
“Y-You- what??” Virgil stammered, his odd hand movements adding to his confused look. “Why would you do that? A simple “I told you so” would’ve worked.”  
  
“Yeah, well…” Patton shrugged. “I know that even with your good pay, it’s still not enough to support your siblings comfortably. So, think of it as… a _good_ reason to come back alive. A promise.”  
  
Virgil laughed. “God you’re so cheesy and optimistic. I thought this job would’ve killed your spirits.”  
  
“No, my job kills people.” Patton said, earning a bitter laugh from the other.  
  
“But seriously, you’d really do that?” Virgil continued, his eyes shifting around Patton’s face as he searched for any sight of deceit.  
  
“Of course! Besides, I believe we’ve grown past the point of a professional relationship. It’s the least I can do.”  
Virgil nodded, a small hopeful smile spreading on his face. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”  
  
Patton only smiled in return, opening his arms slightly to invite Virgil in a hug. Virgil quickly took his request and hooked his arms under Patton’s with his hands resting on his shoulders. Patton wrapped his arms around Virgil’s waist, squeezing the shorter male to ground himself.  
  
“I have an idea,” Patton said, pulling out of the hug sooner then he wished. He pulled out his phone from his pants pocket. He held it out to Virgil. “We’ll swap numbers and I’ll text you when I can give you the money.”  
  
“Okay.” Virgil said, typing his number into Patton’s phone before inputting Patton’s into his own. “I should go now, I have more work to do.”  
  
“Take care!” Patton said, waving to Virgil as he stood to leave. Virgil waved back, Patton noting the way Virgil almost bounced away as he walked. Looking at his phone, he saw Virgil put himself as “Storm Cloud” in Patton’s contacts. It was somewhat edgy, but it was fitting, and Patton liked it.  
  
So, this was happening. Patton tried to swallow down the lump in his throat.  
  
He promised.  
  
…  
  
It was days later when Patton finally found the assassin. It was nearing sunset and Patton was following Logan roughly twenty feet behind him. The man was walking home from his job at a gas station. His shoulders were broad and his arms were fairly built under the dark long-sleeved shirt he was wearing. This man had been in physical altercations before, if Patton had to guess.  
  
Patton’s plan was to follow the man until they reached a more secluded spot where no one would see him. Any witnesses to the body were not a problem if Patton was able to escape.  
  
But nothing was ever that simple, was it?  
  
Logan had already turn left three times after walking sometime to his assumed apartment. He was going in a circle around a block. Logan is testing him. To see if he’ll continue stalking him.  
  
Not a game breaker, however. The next turn is right into an alleyway which was quiet and dark. That is Patton’s only window of opportunity.  
  
Logan turned to the alley as Patton predicted and he held his breath. Discreetly as he walked, he pulled his gun that was hidden under his shirt and tucked into his belt. Gripping the handle with both hands, he clicked off the safety as he turned the corner and aimed the gun.  
  
He was instantly at a standstill as he saw Logan mirroring him ten feet away. Logan’s gaze was harsh as he clicked off his own safety.  
  
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Logan said, his voice deep and void of fear. “but you’re here to kill me for a price, right?”  
“Maybe.”  
  
Logan took a step forward, Patton extending his arms the furthest they could go as a warning, aiming for Logan’s head. Logan looked unbothered, unnerving Patton slightly.  
  
“Who was it?”  
  
“I am not obligated to share that.”  
  
“The price?”  
  
Patton paused. “… Thousands.”  
  
“I’m flattered.” Logan said flatly, his eyes gleaming with the raise of his brows being the only sign of expression.  
  
Patton stayed silent, hundreds of outcomes running through his head. His head was swimming with fear and adrenaline as the fact he could die right here became clear. His heart stuttered when Logan took another step, causing Patton to do the same.  
  
“Stay right where you are.” Patton said, managing to keep his voice steady. It would only take a few more steps for their guns to meet. “If you kill me, there will be more after you.”  
  
“Like that’s supposed to scare me into submitting my life to you.” Logan said dryly. “How about this? Leave and this will be forgotten.”  
  
“W-What??” Patton said, internally wincing at his stutter  
  
“Leave. Say you failed. Say you can’t do this and that your client will have to find somebody else.”  
  
Patton lowered his gun slightly, staring at the taller man’s gun. He wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t naïve. Logan obviously thought otherwise.  
  
“Leave before I change my mind.” Logan said, lowering his gun down so it was pointing to his own feet, although his eyes never strayed from Patton’s face.  
  
“Fine.” Patton said, beginning to turn around before turning right back and shot at Logan. Logan ducked, but the bullet managed to graze his cheek. He hissed in frustration as he fell on his side.  
  
Logan raised his own gun and fired at Patton, lodging a bullet in the other’s hip. Patton cried out as he fell onto his knees near Logan. He could feel the warmth of blood already beginning seeping down his leg and staining his clothes. He dropped his own gun off to the side and sizing the other’s wrists, digging his nails into his skin.  
  
Logan growled, using his gun free hand to grab one of Patton’s wrists, trying to pull him off. Patton held tight as Logan flipped them over, trapping Patton under him.  
  
“Stop. Fighting.” Patton hissed.  
  
“Eat shit.” Logan said, before Patton slammed his face forward. His forehead collided with Logan’s nose along with his glasses, cracking one of the lenses. Logan recoiled, allowing Patton to pull back one of his legs and kick him squarely in stomach, leaving behind a faint footprint.  
  
Logan’s leaned back on his legs, his grip on the gun loosened as he hissed in pain. Patton crawled away from Logan and launched himself to grab the gun. Both men gripped the gun with both their hands, white-knuckling the entire time until Patton managed to pull the gun away but accidentally threw if off to the other side of the alley.  
  
Logan punched Patton in the face, splitting his lip. Patton could already taste the blood in his mouth as he saw Logan getting up to dash for his gun. Patton grabbed his leg, pulling him back harshly. Logan tried kicking him off, but Patton only stood up, letting his hands grip whatever part of him he could grab as he struggled higher and higher until he was gripping the other man’s shirt collar.  
  
As the other man tried struggling out of his grip, digging his nails into Patton’s wrists, Patton shoved him against the wall. He repeated the action harshly a few more times before turning and shoving Logan to the ground.  
  
Logan grunted as he fell on his back. Just a foot away he saw Patton’s discarded gun in the fractured view of his glasses. Turning on his stomach, he reached for it, adrenaline causing his arm to shake. But before he could get it, Patton’s foot lightly stepped on the gun and kicked it away. Logan let his arm drop. He knew he was beaten.  
  
“Sit up Logan.” Patton said, aiming what was Logan’s gun at his temple.  
  
Logan obeyed, sitting on his feet and refusing to look up. “To be killed with my own gun. Interesting.”  
  
Patton stayed silent. Moments passed before Logan spoke again, quieter this time.  
  
“Why are you waiting?”  
  
Patton stiffened, the words of his question already clawing up his throat. He _promised_ he wouldn’t do this. He _promised_ to do this quickly. “Answer me this, Logan.” _He promised he promised **he promised.**_  
  
“Do you deserve to die?”  
  
Logan was silent for a beat, the air seemed to be completely still.  
  
He risked a glance to meet Patton’s eyes. “Maybe.” He muttered, his tone making it almost sound like a question. His face was emotionless but studying him, Patton saw the light purple crescents under his eyes. He also noticed the look his eyes gave that conveyed something else.  
  
_Guilt, pain, **regret.**_  
  
All the bad emotions Patton felt. _Repressed._  
  
No one has ever responded like this. It completely dumbfounded Patton. So much so that everything that happened next was a blur.  
  
One moment Logan was there looking at him like a he was the victim. The next they were face-to-face with a sharp, searing pain in Patton’s chest that caused him to make a small noise in his throat. He could hardly hear Logan through the ringing in his ears.  
  
“I will admit, your looks are very deceiving.” Logan said smoothly. “Although you failed to think ahead.”  
  
Patton could only make a wheezing noise as he looked down and saw the knife stabbing upwards through his ribs.  
  
“Stab past the fourth rib and you’ll reach the heart.” Logan said as Patton feebly tried gripping the handle under Logan’s hand. Pain seemed to swell with every heartbeat.  
  
Logan’s other hand cupped Patton’s chin and forced him to look up. “Answer me this Patton. Do you deserve to die?”  
  
With that, Logan pulled out the knife and pushed Patton to the ground. Spots of light flashed in Patton’s view as his head hit the ground. Pain bloomed from the spot, the edge of his vision growing dark. He could faintly hear his own, hitching breath.  
  
Guilt welled up in his stomach so quickly he felt sick. His head swam with images of his past targets. _Victims._ That he _murdered._  
  
Patton had tried so hard to ignore that fact. To repress it and to give as many excuses as he could to justify it. To make himself look better.  
  
He felt a faint buzzing from his pants pocket but could barely register it as his vision went darker and darker. The physical and emotional pain so strong he wanted to curl up and cry but finding himself too weak to do so.  
  
Patton’s last sight of the world before passing out was a few stars dotting the deep blue city sky, wedged between the walls of the alley. He died alone, without knowing the answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my best friend patheticjazzhands on here for letting me use her idea for this fic!


End file.
